Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

Respect: Although we will lose income and military power, reduced revolt risk will lead to a more stable empire.

2 (10.5%)

Respect: We cannot afford to spend years and hundreds of ducats repairing relations with Aragon, or else thousands of troops trying to save Barcelona.

2 (10.5%)

Oppose: The Estates will drain our resources for the next four centuries if we let them; better to suffer for a decade or so now than to be robbed in perpetuity.

0 (0%)

Oppose: Those holier-than-thou nobles think they can tell -us- what to do?  Slaughter them!  Slaughter every last one of them for daring to interfere with our rule!

6 (31.6%)

Respect:  It turns out, the Estates can permanently block our inheritance.  We essentially have no choice.  

9 (47.4%)

Total Members Voted: 19

[Johnfalcon99977]

I did a forum game called Fiefdoms at War earlier in the year.  It was popular, but a bitch to run.  I lost interest/hope and ended it.

I thought you had a program to do turns for you?

[Iituem]

Excerpts from John Smith: A Junior Minister's Diary

18th May, 1400

War has been declared on France, but the king has decided to reserve the casus belli provided by the seditious Norman nobles for a later war.  Instead we are using their earlier diplomatic insult, as we have neither hope nor intention of winning a land war against France at the present - certainly not with our pitiful military.

Commander William Szark the Younger (sometimes known as Szark II), the king's military advisor, suggested using the diplomatic casus belli to declare a false war on France, leave scorched earth for them to besiege in our southern French provinces and declare a white peace with them once we have achieved our intended goals in Scotland.  Master Parsons, the Home Secretary, disagreed on the grounds that we should find a way to take Scotland without the risk of losing our French holdings, but the king's impatience won out.


19th May, 1400

As expected, Aragon, Portugal and Lorraine are all cowards.  Fortunately for them, France cannot touch us anywhere important or we would have to exact retribution for their failures.  Scotland has declared on us as expected, so we are moving troops directly into the highlands to subjugate these barbaric peoples once and for all.


11th November, 1400

The war continues apace, with General Knolles' troops working to pacify the Scots for the planned vassalisation.  The French meantime continue to besiege Gasogne and Saintogne at some cost, but it is likely they will occupy the provinces before the end of the war.

An unfortunate choice came to the king today - a rich patron of the church left a vast estate in bequeath to it.  The taxes taken from this (thanks to the Church exemption from tax) would hurt the Treasury severely before it adjusted for the losses.  The church is willing to sell us the land back for some £50,000.

We do not have £50,000.  It will seriously sour relations with the Mother Church and cause a fair degree of discord at home, but we need the money.  The king has chosen to seize the lands for the Crown.


14th January, 1401

Plague has stuck London.  The dead line the streets.  I am surrounded by burning incense and rose petals in an effort to drive off the miasma, but I have taken to getting the servants to pass food and documents to me through a special two-doored chamber to avoid any chance of infection should they have the plague themselves.

The queen was one of the earliest casualties, which has had something of an effect on our beloved monarch.  The king has authorised nearly forty thousand pounds to be spent on quarantine and burning down plague-infested houses, but the chances are that even with such drastic measures we will still lose a fifth of the population.  I pray to God that I am not one of them.


1st February, 1401

The heroic defense of Saintogne is becoming something of a legend.  They tell stories and sing songs of the defenders there, persisting against the French attack for months without losing hope or faith.  It has sponsored quite the sensation of English pride.


23rd February, 1401

Great news!  The head of the diplomatic corps died of plague today!  A tragedy of course but I've been slated to take his place.  Things are looking up for old John Smith!


25th March, 1401

My colleague with the clerical faction in court has informed me that a new heresy has sprung up.  The heretics call themselves the Lollards and oppose the Pope on doctrinal issues, so they have been excommunicated.  Since the recent bequeathment scandal, the king is less than eager to harm relations with the Papacy further, so he has agreed to follow the excommunication and persecute the Lollards in the country.

Unfortunately, they have something of a major following in Cumbria - we can expect rebellion there in the near future.


18th April, 1401

The Lollards had a much greater following than expected.  Far from the handful of minor troublemakers the clergy anticipated, Lollard preachers had enough of a following that riots are starting to break out between the faithful and the heretic followers.  The king has authorised the beadles to extend their protection to the heretics, lest the outbreaks of violence threaten the stability of the realm.  Our relation with the Pope will no doubt sour even further, but the King is emphatic that the stability of the realm comes first.


28th April, 1401

The Orleannaise, in a mimicry of their French masters, sent the court forty whores and two hundred bottles of wine.  The wine was checked for poison and found clean.

The whores, it turns out, all had syphilis.  This one is going down in the 'diplomatic insults' book.


2nd July, 1401

I approached the King today on behalf of the diplomatic corps to point out that we were overstaffed and needed to get rid of some of our apprentices.  I noted that presently there was no legal heir to the Bohemian throne (technically the throne of the Empire, though not being hereditary this would not count).  If we were exceedingly lucky and just a little bit of a bastard about it, the King could marry one of Vaclav IV's daughters and try to claim the Bohemian throne.  Relations would drop like a stone, but if Vaclav died before an heir could be sired...


4th August, 1401

It took two diplomatic envoys, but we were able to secure a marriage between Vaclav's second daughter and Henry.  We attempted to secure the first daughter originally, but the Emperor refused.  Now that we have a tenuous claim to the throne, we may risk attempting to seize the succession - a dangerous proposition at the best of times.

Heh.  I think this maneoeuvre should get me a knighthood.


4th May, 1402

"That idiot Smith!"

The goblet clattered across the polished marble, spilling the few drops of claret still in it across the floor.  Prince Henry knelt and picked it up; there were no servants present during his meetings with his father.  The prince placed the goblet back on the table and kept a wary eye on the king.

"He could hardly have known-" the prince began.

"Couldn't he?  Isn't that his job?" roared the king.  "Three weeks, three weeks after I wed that waif of a girl his wife announces her pregnancy!  'Oh, it'll be fine', Smith tells me.  'Two failures and stillbirth, so far, this will be just the same.'  And now he tells me the Empress has given birth to a fresh, healthy baby boy!"

"And of course we have sent our congratulations to the Emperor on his success."

King Henry shot a look at his son.  Prince Henry smiled back with innocence.  King Henry harrumphed.

"Well, of course.  Fruit basket with silver apples and golden pears, usual affair.  Can't let that blackguard Vaclav think he's won, can we?  Still, I've no use for a man who can't keept track of a thing as simple as a woman's pregnancy.  Send him somewhere, will you?  Give him a knighthood and a plot of land in some distant God-forsaken hole and keep him the hell away from court."

"Yes, father.  Sir.  How about Tresco?"

"Haven't the foggiest where that is."

"Isles of Scilly."

"Oh yes.  Isn't that owned by old Abbot Corning of Tavistock Abbey?  I remember the Abbot sending us fish as a tribute."

"Really?  Well, I'm sure they'll get along fine."

"Abbot 'Red Eyes' Corning.  I heard he murdered twenty men with his bare hands before he took up the cloth.  By the way, did we ever sort out all the shipwrecking that went on near there?"

"Yep.  Just fine."


It's 1403, and we are still at war.  Only Ayrshire and Fife have succumbed because we can't actually support a large enough army to siege the whole Scottish peninsula at once.  In Magna Mundi, every fort starts at level 2 or level 3 - even the natives in America have level 1 at the lowest.  It takes 200-300 days to train infantry, even more with cavalry.  Money is tighter than a gnat's chaff and it is painfully difficult to reduce inflation - my 6 star Master of the Mint allows me to reduce inflation by 0.07 per year.  This makes it painfully difficult to mint money.

War in MM is slow.  On the other hand, this does make it somewhat satisfying when you pull it off.

[Zrk2]

DOn't you hate the way heirs appear just as soon as you start gearing up to take the throne? I had one show up in the middle of a succession war.

[NRDL]

Hmmm.....stay the course, as long as the scots don't get any sudden reinforcements from other nations, you can probably beat them back.  Really, the only thing you can do is wear them down. 

Oh, and what on Earth is a gnat's chaff?

[Iituem]

14th October, 1403

"You're sixteen years old, it's about time you knew a woman."

Henry glanced up from the set of ledgers he was reviewing.  The king was leaning on one of the cabinets with a goblet in his free hand.  The prince repressed the urge to roll his eyes with the skill of years of diplomatic education.

"Father, I know you receive the interior minister's reports on me, and I also know that you know that I'm sixteen years old.  How on Earth can you possibly believe I don't-"

"It's time you officially knew a woman," snapped the king.  "In any case, I happen to know exactly the one to-"

"She's fifteen, father.  Sir.  She's a girl, not a woman."

"What?"  The king gave his son a mildly bewildered look.  Prince Henry slid one of his desk drawers open and pulled out a slender manuscript.  The king vaguely recognised Master Parsons the Interior Minister's signature on it.

"Margaret.  Crown Princess of Aragon.  Last of Marti d'Aragon's children.  That's what you were going to suggest, right?  There are eighteen principalities, grand duchies or kingdoms without clear lines of succession.  Most are too small or too embroiled to be worth the marriage prospects, or else already have potential major claimants we could be embroiled in a war of succession with.  The two best prospects are Hungary and Aragon. 

"The king of Hungary died, but his son took the throne at the age of eight.  The son's a bastard, though, so we could lay a claim based on his illegitimacy by marrying into the high aristocracy.  On the other hand, he's young and has plenty of time to secure his position, making it a questionable bet.  Hungary is massive, but too distant for us to really secure in addition."

Henry turned a page in the manuscript.

"On the other hand, Aragon whilst smaller lacks many political marriages and we already have a reasonably good relationship with them - though I will be the first to remind you that they ran like hens when we called them to war.  King Martin's legitimate heirs James and John are all dead and frankly even Margaret looks peakish.  Martin has had no other children and although he is technically ruler of Sicily his wife Maria is managing the crown's affairs, keeping her away from letting him sire any more sons.  There is a bastard, Count Frederick of Luna, but a marriage to the Princess would give us a better claim."

King Henry gave his son a sharp look.  He walked over and plucked the manuscript from Prince Henry's hand, then rifled through the pages for himself.

"You shouldn't be diverting reports to yourself," he said.  "I'm still the King around here, you know."

"They're copies, sir.  You get the originals.  The minister informs me they go directly to your desk."

There was a brief, awkward silence.

"Or should I have them forwarded to the wine cellar?"

King Henry gave his son a short smack around the back of the head.

"Know your place, boy.  And right now, your place is on a ship to Barcelona.  You've got a week to pack-"

"Been packed since August, sir.  The Archbishop was upset he won't be conducting the marriage himself, but we reminded him that we were forgetting exactly how much land the Church owns in Gloucestershire."

"How much land does the Church own in Gloucestershire?"

"I've forgotten.  Let's just say enough that the Archbishop's voluntary contributions are putting him on par with the entire output of the Western Isles - and that's bearing in mind we've been besieging those for two years."

"Good God."  The king remembered and crossed himself, giving an apologetic glance upwards.  "And the Pope has the gall to censure me for taking some land and closeting a few heretics?  Bah, just head to Barcelona and wed that Maria-"

"-Margaret-"

"-whatever her name is.  Get some sun, get married and come back a real man."

"Father, I did already mention that I've-"

"An official man, damn you!"



6th March, 1404

Lord Servant, head of the diplomatic corps, tapped his fingers on the offending document and glared at it with the fixed gaze of a man whose neck and fortune depended on how it was received.

A missive from the Empire.  Not necessarily a bad thing; most of the missives Servant received were just resolutions of the Reichstag, nearly all of which were culled before ever reaching the king's ears.  The prince of course insisted on receiving copies anyway, 'just in case'.  This missive was more troubling.

After careful consideration, Servant slid the paper into a small stack, third from the top.  That would give him enough time to leave the room.  He glanced at the sundial by the window - didn't Parsons have one of those mechanical clocks?  Bloody interior ministry getting all the funding.  Still, it was about the right time of day.  Parsons worked on some minor book-keeping for another ten minutes then picked up the stack and headed to the king's chambers.

As expected, the most noble and glorious Henry IV, King of England, was engaged in a poker game with the Duke of Lancaster and the Earl of Sandwich (who had once again insisted the servants make him "something quick, so I don't need to bother with a knife").  Lord Servant carefully placed the stack by the king's arm, so as not to interrupt his hand, then enquired if the king would like him to go into the reports in detail.

A brief grunt confirmed a negative response, lifting Servant's spirits.  He made his way to the door when the king began absentmindedly rifling through the papers.  Lord Servant bowed, closed the door behind him and broke into a dead run.  About halfway down the corridor, he heard the shouting begin.

Friedrich Falky, firstborn son of Vaclav IV of Bohemia, had become ruler of the Holy Roman Empire at the prime age of 2 years old.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Excerpts from the diary of Henry, Prince of Wales

15th January, 1405

The French are getting tired of fighting.  Ambassador Nordell arrived at Dover today to make an official offer of a white peace.  Not a bad offer, considering that Gascogne and Saintongen are already fully occupied by the French and we have no chance of meeting their forces.

On the other hand, the French have not fought a battle with us in fifteen years.  We have had more than enough time to build up our forces, and they must have calculated that we could field some 46,000 troops if we were desperate enough - enough to match and even beat their own forces.  Of course, we could never afford the wages - it would bankrupt the country to raise many more troops than the 11,000 we already employ.  In this, the ignorance of the enemy is our friend.

Margaret thinks we should take it, given how much the war's exactions have impacted our people.  I disagree strongly - since we entered the war against France and they are leading it, it would give Scotland a legal excuse to leave before our ambitions are completed.  The French have almost certainly taken this into account - if we make peace with them their ally will be completely released from our grip.  No, we will continue this war until we have crushed the Scots and only then will we make peace.  Of course chances are we might have to pay danegeld to the French to get an end to things, which will hurt our prestige but better that than extending the war longer than we have to.


14th May, 1405

News has come from our armies at Inverness; after 1661 days, the siege has broken!  The highlands are ours, but the rest of Scotland has still to fall.  We remain understaffed in troops, having to expend most of our forces suppressing recruitment efforts from the highlanders and only concentrating in a few places to try and besiege the castles properly.  Trying to maintain large numbers of troops in hostile territory is difficult, to say the least - we have probably had half the army's number desert or die from attrition over the last four years.  Especially with the occupation of Gascogne and Saintonge, the people are starting to really feel exhaustion from the war now.


8th December, 1405

Margaret was taken by a fever in the last week.  The physician tells me her condition was close, but that she will live.  He has doubts about her health in the future, and it seems unlikely she will have a second child.  News from Aragon suggests that King Martin's health has taken a similar turn for the worse, but without the recovery Margaret enjoys.


4th January, 1406

A General Council of the Clergy has been called in Venice over the Lollard question - a rare occasion, given that only 17 have been called since the death of Christ.  With a unanimous agreement from all the Bishops of Christendom, it is generally agreed that such a council would be infallible, even overruling that of the elected Pope. 


20th February, 1406

King Henry gave his beard an annoyed tug as he approached the prince's chambers.  A prince should come to a king, not the other way around!  Well, young Henry could see how he liked spending the spring and summer in Scotland for-

The chamber door opened and the young princess Margaret burst out of the room, flush with tears.  The king stood to one side and let the weeping royal fly past him and into her own chambers, slamming the door behind her.  When the king entered his son's chambers, Prince Henry had a slightly resigned look.

"What's wrong with her?" said the King, jerking a thumb back towards the door.

"Excellent news, sir.  Well, tragic news.  Well, excellent news."

"Make your mind up and tell me what it is, then.  I've half a mind to send you to-"

"King Martin is dead."

The king raised an eyebrow.  He moved to sit, then remembered himself and motioned irritably for the prince to sit instead.  Prince Henry pulled out a comfortable chair and sat.

"Dead dead?  As in..."

"As a doormouse.  Lying in state, buried in a week.  We won't get there in time for the funeral, but a mass will be held once our ship reaches Barcelona.  As I understand it, he was on the mend from the winter fever when he cut himself shaving and died from a poison of the blood."

"So that means you're-"

"Maria is Queen.  But as Prince Consort I have some sway, and more experience in administering a country than Her Majesty.  Not to mention our child will be due to preside over both thrones, eventually.  But the reality is, yes, Aragon and England's futures are now bound."

Prince Henry stood up again and glanced at his wardrobe.

"I shall need to pack again," he mused.  "Once we leave, I fear I will not be returning for some time.  It will be necessary for me to remain in Barcelona to manage Aragon's affairs - on behalf of the Queen, of course.  The bureaucracy will not be happy about this, and it will take time to smooth things over enough for us to ever achieve a true Union of the states.  Time and money - any wealth England can spare will go a long way towards getting the Aragonese to accept the legitimacy of our claims."

"Well then," said the king.  "It seems you have everything in order.  I shall miss you, of course, but I confess I was considering sending you abroad for the development of your character anyway."

The king opened the door of the prince's chambers and glanced back before leaving.

"And one more thing, my son.  If you ever summon me to you again, then son or no, Prince-Consort of Aragon or no, I will have you stripped naked and flayed in front of the palace.  I may not be as clever or well-read as you, but so long as I live I am still King of England."

The king shut the door in something just less than a slam.  Prince Henry watched it with a neutral expression for a few moments, then set about packing.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

30th June, 1406

"Edinburgh has fallen!  Edinburgh has fallen!"

Lord Servant sat up at the news.  The servant leaned on the doorframe, panting slightly from his run.  Servant laced his fingers and frowned, staring into the middle distance.

"My lord, I said-"

"I heard you.  Shut up, I'm thinking."

Servant continued to stare, tapping his right forefinger against his left.  He unlaced his hands and tapped his right hand on the desk.

"Good.  What's the soonest a rider can get to the Western Isles?"

"About eighteen days, sir."

"Send one of the assistants up there immediately with a treaty of vassalage for their king-in-exile.  I imagine with the mainland securely under our thumb he'll want to see the inside of his palace again."

"Any territorial demands, sir?"

"Not likely.  It'll be hard enough getting the king to swallow vassalage without surrendering lands.  Oh, and there's one more instruction for the assistant.  It's a question of time..."


24th July, 1406

"I am glad your king has finally listened to reason," said Nordell, taking his seat at the table.  Lord Servant arranged the loose papers in his manuscript.

"Yes well," said Servant, "I think we can all agree that the war has gone on long enough.  Of course, your earlier offer of a white truce is no longer on the table."  Servant flicked through a couple of the pages.  The king was willing to spend up to £50,000 on reparations, no more, but a concession of defeat would be preferable.  If none of that would work, he was to surrender Saintonge but not renounce any claims.

"Now," said Servant, taking one of the folios from his manuscript, "we are prepared to offer-"

"I assure you, we are open to accepting any reasonable terms," said the French ambassador, a little too quickly.  Servant paused, about to offer the folio of acceptable reparations to the Frenchman.  He withdrew the folio and replaced it in the manuscript.

"Tell me," said Servant, "there have been quite a number of Scottish refugees fleeing to France, haven't there?  What have they been saying?"

"Oh, lies and slander.  Spewing tales of hatred of the English, of course, the sacking of Inverness and Aberdeen.  All those proud towers, falling.  They were particularly angry that you dragged the whole thing out."

Servant studied the Frenchman; the slight twitch in his leg, the smoothness of his voice.

"Well, we had to keep the main body of our troops back against opportunists.  You know how it is."

"Ah, of course."  A cough escaped Nordell's throat.

Bingo.

"The war has been costly for both sides, and of course we appreciate that you have suffered losses as well as ourselves.  Naturally, we will not wish to extend those losses any further - but we must ask some small securities."

"We will naturally remove our troops from your territories."

"Yes, you will.  You will also renounce your claims on those territories - they have proven their loyalty to us by resisting you in this war."  Never mind the fact that ultimately the governors of both provinces defected because the French treated them better.  "We will also require you to relinquish your claims to Armagnac and Bourgogne."

"Ah - Armagnac I can understand, but why Bourgogne?"

"Because you want an end to this war, that's why.  Last, but not least, you will provide-" Servant picked a figure out of his head "-seventy five thousand pounds in reparations for damages caused to the provinces of Gascogne and Saintonge."

"What?  That is an outrage!"

"It is the cost of ending this war.  Of course, if you want it to press on for another ten years..."

"No, no!  God, no.  We... we realise the importance of such concessions to making peace.  But there must be concessions from you also!  For instance, our valuable allies the Scots - you must pull your troops out and end your occupation of Scotland immediately!  After all, this war started over a matter of honour between England and France, Scotland was merely a third party."

Lord Servant made a show of pursing his lips at Nordell's words.

"Are you sure I cannot convince you otherwise on this?" he asked.

"Absolutely," said the French ambassador with a hint of triumph.  "If Scotland stays in this war, then so will France!"

Servant gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Very well, then.  The treaty will allow for the removal of French troops, renouncement of claims and payment of reparations, and I give you the word of the king and this treaty that the occupation of Scotland ends today.  Do we have a deal?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Lord Servant," said Nordell, offering his hand.

"Yes, yes I do," said Servant, shaking it.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

8th August, 1406, Dover

Nordell sat impatiently on the prow of the ship, waiting for the last of his luggage to be loaded on board.  A copy of the treaty had already been sent ahead to Paris for the King to put his official signature on, though the deal was good as done already.  He gave a last look at England as the ship prepared to cast off, thankful to God he was getting away from such monstrous people.

A runner approached the ship at full pelt, crying out for the captain not to set sail.  Nordell watched the heated exchange between runner and captain as the runner pressed a message scroll into his hands and the captain beat the runner about the head with it.  The messenger departed and Nordell sat back and relaxed as the ship set sail.

About half an hour after leaving port, the captain arrived with the scroll case and passed it to Nordell.

"Runner said it was from the Palace, courtesy of a Lord Servant," said the captain.  "Told me to give it to you once we were underway."

Nordell thanked the captain and tipped him a franc, then opened the message scroll and read the paper within.  His face blanched, then burned red with rage.

The scroll case contained one copy of a treaty of vassalage, signed by the king of Scotland and dated the 23rd of July, 1406.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

1406 is a good year for the English.  We unionise Aragon (got to improve the relations for a full inheritance) and force the Scots into vassalage.  Ten years down the line we'll either have to annexe or inherit them.

Not only do the French accept peace, but in spite of the fact that we mostly lost that side of the war and they occupied both our provinces in the south we intimidated them at the negotiating table into not only renouncing their claims on both provinces but also on the capital of Burgundy and the contested province of Armagnac.  Then we blackmailed them into giving us 75 ducats in danegeld.  All in all, probably the best diplomatic negotiation in history.

[Iituem]

[Doublepost!]

Edit:  'Chaff' technically is the inedible stalk part of wheat.  It is also British slang for a vagina.

Edit 2:  The reason we got such a good result is that we never fought a single battle against the French, but we fought twenty battles on land and at sea against the Scots and won every single one.  We had an effective warscore of 16% after the -4% for the French occupying Gascogne and Saintonge, simply from winning so many battles.

Since we would have lost virtually every battle against the French, fighting a no-war against them technically meant we scared them shitless with the possibility of fighting us.

[Zrk2]

Bravo.

[Iituem]

Haven't started playing the next bit, so time for strategy requests.  Shall we build up cash, focus on research, or consider another warmonger strategy?

Now, we have 4 infamy and our max is 19, so we could technically engage in some wars if we needed to.  On the other hand, this is Magna Mundi - if you get over 40% infamy there's a good chance the "Framed!" event will trigger and your infamy will shoot up by 10 points, usually over the limit and putting you firmly into "everybody dogpile on your country" territory.  Not to mention infamy affects the amount of income you get now, as well as lots of other effects.  When Ubik designed MM he really, really wanted people to pay attention to infamy.  We will lose infamy at a rate of maybe 0.5 badboy/year.  1/year with a decent diplomat, but at this point it's not something I'm too worried about.

Scotland is vassalised, but once we get over 2 vassals we start suffering penalties.  We could try and pick out another likely target or even risk another Unionisation attempt - but every time we throneclaim we lose 20 legitimacy.  Legitimacy is also a pain to get back without hiring a grand marshal to trumpet our great deeds, or without things like the tapestry decree.

Which brings me to another point.  Advisors are difficult to get in MM.  You can host a hiring fair to try and get a handful, but it will cost you tax and prestige (and I think stability costs but not stability itself).  You can't do the usual HttT trick as easily where you commission a bunch of paintings with your magistrates (we have 0.25 magistrates/year because we're a feudal government and it will be 100 years before we get enough Govt tech to make post offices or roads) partly because Cultural Tradition now decays rapidly at a 5-10%/year rate and also because to do virtually anything in the cultural menu you now need to hire an Artist advisor (bringing us back to the advisor problem).

Our present advisors are a 6* monk that improves production research and prestige, a 5* statesman who improves govt research and national tax rate, and a 6* master of the mint who allows us to mint enough money/year to actually avoid crashing into bankruptcy.  We might want to replace one of those with some sort of naval advisor in the future, though, because we are constantly under threat by piracy.  Piracy is one of those dangers you have to fight like a bastard in this game and if you don't keep on top of it, it will screw over your tarriffs and trade income, not to mention causing unrest and all sorts of other nasty effects.

Thinking about wars, it may ultimately prove worthwhile to hold off on Ireland until we either form GB (giving us a core on all Ireland and a casus belli as a result) or get the 'Conquer Ireland' event.  That event won't happen until we reclaim Normandy and Caux, though.  We can prepare for that too, but it'll be 10 years down the line at least - truces in MM last for 10 years, not 5.

[Iituem]

Oh, boy.  I play for a few months and the first event I get is this:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The nobility of Aragon are not taking our union lightly.  If we accept their law of consultation, we will suffer from reduced manpower and money from all Aragonese territories (not pleasant) albeit at a slight improvement to revolt risk.  As far as I can tell, this will be irrevocable thereafter.

The only thing worse than accepting this law might be denying it.  If we refute the law, we suffer a minor hit to reputation and prestige no matter what.  This is essentially unimportant compared to what the Estates can do.

The most likely result (40%) is that the nobility of Aragon will go fully subversive.  If this happens, it will take years and vast expense in bribes to have a chance of even continuing the Union, let alone inheriting the Aragonese throne.  We will be sent straight down to -200 relations and it takes at least 0 to even enable the continuation of a union (to say nothing of inheritance).

The next most likely result is that most of the nobility engages in open revolt whilst the remainder act as subversives to foment discord.  Aragon will collapse into a horrifically unstable state and 13,000 troops (a large number of which will be cavalry) will rise up in Barcelona and try to seize the town.  This is actually preferable even though it results in a massive kill-stack of troops besieging Barcelona because it doesn't hurt our relations with Aragon (which have bizarrely dropped to 61 for no reason at all - they were at 121 before.)

The third, somewhat unlikely result is that all the nobles rise up in violent revolution.  The lack of seditious nobility means an effective cleaning of house - Aragon becomes supremely stable and we just have to fight off nearly 20,000 well-armed, well-led troops.


In one sense, it's a choice between the ultimate long-term prosperity of the region and between short term peace and quiet.  In another, it's a crowd of unruly nobles thinking they can tell us what to do.  How shall we respond?

A poll has been created to aid the decision-making process.

[mainiac]

Will accepting the rights of the estates prevent a diploannexation in the future?

[Iituem]

Slightly embarassingly, it turns out from reading the manual that if I oppose the statutes of autonomy demanded in a Personal Union, the union will automatically fail and be broken when the monarch dies.  If I want to inherit the country, I have to agree to the terms of the Estates.

The upside is that those terms will only last 150 years, provided I don't get into any arguments with the Estates thereafter.  Given all the hassle we went to to get a PU, it seems more promising now to accept their demands.

[Zrk2]

Accept the bastards demands, then when you inherit kill 'em all.

[Servant Corps]

The smart thing to do is to just accept the terms...but having seen blobs form and grow bigger and bigger in previous EU3, I am reluctant to support future expansion. This is MM though, so I'm going to give it some slack, under the impression the game will become a whole lot harder.